


The Plague Doctor

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 17th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, Apocalypse, Community: summerpornathon, M/M, Plague, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The world was dying around them and all Merlin could think of in that moment was Arthur. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Plague Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Summer Pornathon 2013 Challenge 3: Fuck or Die // Apocalypse

"Can you save him? Everyone tells me you're the best."

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at Arthur as he hovered in the doorway, nodded, then turned to place his hand on Uther's forehead.

With the drapes drawn and the fire lit, the Lord Mayor's room was warm and stuffy, heavy with the scent of medicinal herbs and sour with the smell of sickness. He was not well-loved and most of London believed he deserved to be taken by the plague. He did, however, have a son who could not yet bear to lose him. 

"Air the room. He'll live."

+

He couldn't save them all, but not for want of trying. Gwen's father was the first he cured, and though he lost three nights of sleep and weakened his magic for days after, he ensured that Gwen and Elyan would be safe, too. They were the closest thing to family he had in London and he would lose the whole city before them. 

(He fears perhaps that he will.)

Merlin saved Arthur a dozen times over--did the preventative spells once for each past life he remembered them sharing. 

Though he doesn't need the protection, he wore the costume of the plague doctor and quickly earned himself a reputation as the only one who outlived his patients.

+

(He will outlive them all.)

+

"Emerson."

Merlin looked up at the sound of his chosen name. The tiny apothecary he ran hadn't had much business before the plague, had a boom during its height, and was empty again now that the plague had taken most of the city. 

Arthur, he thought, the name catching in his heart. "Mr. Pennridge," he said instead. 

Arthur strode across the shop to give Merlin a searching look. "The news from the continent--Amsterdam destroyed, Paris in danger... London is--London isn't--"

"No, it's not." Merlin's fingers twitched to touch Arthur's face, to check if the spells held steady. 

Arthur caught Merlin's hand in his own before Merlin act. "You saved my father and sister, hovering over their beds like the shadow of a great, dark bird. I cannot repay you--"

"You have," Merlin said and his heart felt as if it would pound through his chest. _You repay me every day you live._

"No, that's not--" Arthur shook his head and held Merlin's hand painfully tight. "My sister dreamed that a great fire devoured London. You know she's right. You've always known, Merlin," he whispered. 

"I cannot lose you again." Merlin raised Arthur's hand to kiss his palm. Arthur remembered him and didn't matter how much or how well, he remembered. 

His body remembered Merlin, too, and he shivered with the brush of Merlin's nose against his ear. He's always liked that, the way Merlin would tickle him and nose into the hair around his ear, kiss down the side of his neck and tease him until he was so hard he was fit to burst. 

The world was dying around them and all Merlin could think of in that moment was Arthur. Arthur, the young prince of Camelot, who both was and wasn't this young man who was the son of the Lord Mayor of London. Arthur, whose prick was hot and heavy against Merlin's hand, and who breathed harshly against Merlin's face as he fumbled Merlin's breeches open. Who touched Merlin with such a rough familiarity that Merlin feared he'd come too soon with the hot rush of desperation.

Arthur relented, though, and let Merlin take both their pricks into his hand. He stroked them both, teasing Arthur's cockhead until there was enough slickness to slide his prick against Arthur's. 

"I'd fuck you here if I could wait that long to see you come," Merlin said, pressing closer at the shuddering that passed through Arthur's body. "And I've already waited too many lifetimes for that."

When he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of sage and frankincense, and felt Arthur's mouth close over his, Merlin could remember the first time he made Arthur come for him. He opened them to let go of the memory and to watch Arthur again, to feel him tense and shudder and come with a sound that brought Merlin over the edge, too. 

\+ 

Two days later, they ride out of the city into the country, London ablaze behind them.


End file.
